Author's Note: Thanks again for all the great comments, ratings and favorites! I am very appreciate...

1. Rebellious Slave Ch 17
Author's Note: Thanks again for all the great comments, ratings and favorites! I am very appreciate!
And, frankly, I'm blown away all the enthusiasm for the last chapter! Sorry for the delay with this
chapter. My goal is to get into 1-2 chapters / week habit, but unfortunately, life happened and I fell
last week. Anyways, hope you enjoy. Not too sexual things in this chapter, but a promise that the
next chapter 2-4 will have a lot of sexual fun times and not so fun times. In addition, keep in mind
that the story of Arlington describes the events of the past and its many parts may not necessarily be
published consecutively or back-to-back. Cheers!
HisPet21
*
Arlington harshly cursed under his breath and looked around the tiled roof. Only his dark surface
could see winding country road and a thick, extensive forest, which continued for miles into the
distance. Only high concrete wall separating the Blake family mansion wildlife conservation they are
based more on their own protection than for that of the local flora and fauna. It was not a bad tactic,
either. Approaching the vegetation was very difficult, and Arlington was disappointed to find out that
still does not have a goal taken care of by the end of the night. Worse yet, coming from the roof, it
seemed that was a terrible idea.
It was very dark, but Blake Family Mansion was still lit by a full moon and hundreds of twinkling
stars, unhindered light pollution would find in the city. In that glittering white, Arlington discerned
three small explosives arranged in a small semicircle around it. They occur when Arlington climbed
on the roof - probably equipped with motion sensors - and he could see a small timer to count down
each of the ten fast. There was not enough time to climb the castle wall and get into the yard.
Arlington have to jump, and take care of the country on the way down.
Sprinting to the outer edge of the roof, Arlington quickly jumped overboard, the constant whining of
the three timers obnoxiously hissing in the ears. As he fell into the sky, there was a ground
shattering explosion and felt the fierce heat of Arlington on the back, but the fire was the least of his
worries. Earth is fast approaching, and Arlington did not want to spend another six months in a cast.
But luck was on the side of the young murderer, given that the property Arnold Blake was decorated
in botanical gardens. With a grunt of effort, Arlington caught on a tree branch five feet before it hit
the ground, tearing the skin of the palm like crust slid over the body.
At the moment, Arlington stayed there, hanging dangerously above the ground. Flaming pile of
roofing fell on him, and some burning debris nearly hit him directly. To avoid unpleasant debris,
Arlington took a deep breath and lifted up, sat on top of a tree branch. There, he was able to watch
as black smoke up into the sky and partly overshadowed the silvery moon. The scene would have
been quite breath, Arlington had bothered to make the night sky and twisting of fire and smoke, as
misshapen once peaceful views.
But Arlington felt nothing but anger clouding his mind, a fiery display before him served only fuel
that anger. There was nothing for him to do except sit and watch helplessly as the entire castle was
quickly engulfed in flames, which means that the Blake family was not at home and probably not for
a few weeks. And if so, Arlington was dragged out into the night for nothing. Sleep is a precious
commodity for the young killer with a heavy load condition, and the man was not happy that I lost a

2. good night's rest without a good reason.
"Mark," he hissed in Arlington Microphone their communication devices that wrapped around the
ear like a small headphone. "It seems that Mr. Arnold Blake was waiting for us. Entire place is booby
trapped, and the whole family is gone. Supervision was your job, Marko. Thought you said it would
be in tonight."
Although Arlington was rightfully upset, he tried to make his voice sound too accusatory. After all,
Marko was usually a reliable partner and Arlington could not help but wonder if the mistake was, to
some extent, his own fault. Young killer usually checked during Marka Intel before use, and was
paralyzed off because of his busy schedule. Arlington had just returned from work in the hit Scorce,
and Blake was the case at the last minute favor. Still, he had to check through Mark work. Mr.
Blake, despite his unsavory business practices and poor intellect, he was a class "C" Target, and
Arlington should take their stuff seriously.
"David, I swear to God, all my sources said that the Blake family home evening," Marko said, his
voice betraying a real shock and concern, even above the white noise and broken still bothering
Arlington ears. It was hard to get decent reception so far into the country, and it is a first-class
equipment. "I have no idea where to go if you are not at home," said Marko, but then there was a
guilty pause on the other end and took a deep breath. "If -"
"Unless ...?" Arlington asked, his brow furrowed. "If it is not, Mark?"
"If my last correspondence got caught," he finished quickly Marko, well aware that he was to be
cursed. "The line was not completely safe, but we were pretty sure no one was listening, so I did not
think -"
"You think you should follow protocol?" Arlington growled, still more irritated by the second.
Suddenly he felt a strong need to intervene Marko, and he was glad that his partner was safely
hidden half a mile down the road. "That's your gut instincts tell you this? Your brilliant, fail safe
instincts?" Arlington time to make sure his voice dripping with condescending, and then ridicule.
Arlington minded Marko then, but even more mad at myself. He would never have agreed to help
with Blake's murder, but it was too late. According to the guild policy, Crimson Dragon could not
back out of a job once they agreed to participate, and it looked as if Blake Case was about to become
chaotic. Arlington hated haphazard, chaotic hit job and career prospects him moan involuntarily.
Even worse, Arlington hated having to chase down their victims, like a Hound Dog. Tracking Down a
goal was not only tedious chore, but unnecessary and juvenile tactics for the correct killer. Good kill
- as defined Arlington - was quiet and clean, achieved through careful planning and intelligent
manipulation rather than brute force. And it is feasible, the target could know his fate until it was
too late. But if Blake is clear that they were targeted - as Arlington strongly suspected - it will have
no choice but to chase them and bring out the artillery. It would be rough and unrefined, Arlington
realized. His style killing was bloodless and participate sneak attacks, such as the poisoned wine or
booby trap door. It is not inevitable, butchered mess Blake assassination should stand in the light of
Mark blunders.
"I pulled all the way to the damn landscape with bad Intel?" Arlington swore once more into the
microphone, and he could almost hear Marko wince with shame at the other end. "What were you
thinking, leadership correspondence without fully secure line? I almost got blown into a million little
pieces, Marko!" But then, Arlington remembered master Greyson is the latest training and his

3. invaluable words of wisdom ". Difference between mere murderer and a highly trained killer, boy,
are collected calm and clear-headed" A, grudgingly, Arlington deep, relaxing breath. "Serves me
right," he muttered. "Trust your intel without over it myself ..."
"I really did not think it would be a problem, David," insisted Marko, he apologized. "I swear I did
not know -"
But as Marko continued to apologize, Arlington quickly hissed at him to shut up. It was a strange
noise coming from the Blake Family Garage, Arlington and suddenly could see the sliding doors of
the lift upward, allowing elegant black car shoot out the winding driveway. Someone looks Arlington,
perhaps confirm rumors that Mr. Blake was, indeed, on the hit list Crimson Dragon. Of course, there
was no guarantee that Mr. Blake himself would be the culprit behind the wheel, or even in the car
but it was certainly possible. Mr. Arnold Blake was, after all, known for their extreme paranoia and
foolish behavior. Arlington would not be at all surprised if he stayed to see his attempted
assassination first hand. If it were really so, it was a mistake that Arlington intended to deadly. As
the car sped away, Arlington fell from his perch above the ground and ran for the mess bush, where
he concealed his motorcycle. God, he loved that bike. It was a gift from the Master himself Greyson,
a beautiful machine was one of the latest models specified Isleydor central Weapons Lab.
"Some idiot stayed to watch me work," he whispered into the microphone Arlington, inverting the
rack on the bike and allows the animal to boot. "Whoever it is, they are on the east and moves
quickly. Cut them about half a mile from the border of the reservation, and I came back. If Mr.
Blake, leave him for me. If not, we'll see."
With the Arlington sped away from the Blake Family Mansion, which burned still great against the
dark sky, deadly. Wind Arlington sharply cut across his face as he went, pushing black locks out of
his eyes and enables him to get the fleeing vehicle in the distance. Arlington Auto monitored bulky
thing, is not nearly as aerodynamic as its own mode of transport, and within moments the killer was
a few car lengths behind him.
It was then that bald man in an expensive suit poked his head out of the driver's side window and
started shooting at Arlington. In response, the younger man just smiled triumphantly, more than
pleased with the change of events. After all, bald man, Mr. Archer, Blake's bodyguard, and its
presence indicates that the target is within reach. Maybe the day will be a complete loss after all,
Arlington thought, swerved across the road slyly, making it impossible for him to properly intervene
and control the vehicle at the same time.
Assassins of Arlington skill - especially those belonging to the Crimson Dragon, the most well-renowned
Isleydor of three Assassin guilds - does not usually work in pairs, so that Mr. Archer was
completely unprepared when the second man on the motorcycle is moved in front of him and shot
Mr Blake front tires of the vehicle. As a result, the black car fishtailed until connected with a large
oak tree, halt, leaving a nasty skid mark in his wake. Not a moment later, Mr. Archer has
somersaulted into the street and began shooting at Mark, but his first few shots were accidental and
missed his target. It was a fatal mistake, and it will become a body guard of his life. The sooner Mr.
Archer was able to get a clear shot, Arlington him executed, so the gaping wound in the man's head.
With a muffled thud, body guard fell to the concrete, blood pouring from his mutilated head. And his
employer left all alone, helpless and afraid.
Careful, Mr. Blake opened the rear door of the car and tried to sneak on the asphalt. With the grace
of a wounded elephant, he crawled along the street in pursuit of the trees and run away, but his
attempts were more comical than they were evasive. After all, Mr. Blake was a very large man, well

4. dressed in a red suit obnoxiously so that it stuck out like blood splatter on the road in the dark. In
addition, he was sweating and panting loudly, so that even a blind man could follow him. When Mr.
Blake finally made it to the forest, Marko decided to stop its progress, shooting into the air once and
then twice before obese creature. But Marko kill humans. After all, Mr. Blake was one of Arlington.
It was only fair that in return for his help Marko load condition, Arlington should get credit for Blake
assassination, especially since he needed only one more scale to reach a higher state.
"Not so fast, sir," he purred Marko, saving the steps of drawing ever closer to the goal trembling.
The killer was a tall man, corresponding Arlington heights, but had brown eyes and hair almonds,
which gave him a lighter look. The muscles in his arms were Marko testimony of many hours spent
in the gym, and his pale skin glistened in the moonlight ominous. "And now, no sneaking off into the
woods," said Marko, nonchalant. "We love you, and your time will be best to invest to say his last
prayers, or whispers his last goodbye. Hopefully you'll have up-to-date with. Had I known that the
Crimson Dragon was me, I would have drawn up during the day . "
"Please," he begged Mr. Blake, as to his hands and knees, as if everyone did. It was a disgusting
display, Arlington think he watched the start quivering target fat tears so that his face was ugly and
obscene. Arlington promised then that if ever be assassinated or executed, he would not beg or cry.
He dies beautifully and with dignity, not some quivering wreck. "Please, I have a wife," objective
continues as Arlington approached a loaded gun in one hand. "I have kids. They need me, my good
sir. Please, have mercy. I'm begging you."
"I see," sneered Arlington still feel disgusted. "And I have to say that it does not do a very good job."
The little man's face fell and then he redoubled his efforts to Arlington crawled on hands and knees.
But the killer wanted no part of Mr. Blake, to touch him, and kicked it around to finish off, so Mr.
Blake was on the ground, clutching his side. "As for your wife and children," Arlington, control of his
weapon. "I'm sure they will all do well without you.'re Amassed quite a fortune, Mr. Blake. Neither
Mrs. Blake twins will not starve, and you know it. Now stop crying, and why don 't face me like a
good man. I would like to dignified death, if you have one. "But Mr. Blake just sat on the concrete,
still whining and begging. It seems that the man did not intend to go down as a man, and would
rather be a dog.
"Please, I have money!" Mr. Blake continued obstinate. "I'm a millionaire, after all. Would not you
guys like your future guaranteed? No worry about finance? All the money you need to attract
women? Fulfill all your desires?" Quickly, Mr. Blake turned from Arlington faces that Marko is trying
to recognize the impact of their words. When the second began to smile, hope shines for Mr. Blake's
eyes. He was right about one hair to make it on his offer? There was a chance to escape, even now?
As Mark's smile widened even further aim nodded enthusiastically. "That is true," said Mr. Blake, the
prospects for survival warm heart. "All the money that you might want, I guarantee it. Women, too,
of course. Property, even." But Mr. Blake was erroneously Mark's smile - which was confirmed by
the ridicule, desire - and when the killer laughed, his face fell
.
"It looks like we caught ourselves genie," Marko condescending smile and savoring fresh fears about
Mr. Blake's face. "And it looks like it wants to give us our wishes. Oh, what you want, David?" After
Marko turned ominously toward the target, whose face betrayed intense shock and pain. "Tell me,
Mr. Genie," teased killer. "What are the rules I wish for more wishes, possible or not permitted Can I
save the free will of man I have so many great ideas -?"
"Do not irritate goal," Arlington sighed, rolled his eyes at the scene. In response, Marko gave his

5. partner pouty look, but Arlington ignored him. He turned to Mr. Blake, Arlington grabbed the man
by the collar and pulled him to the side of the road. It was difficult, due to the weight of this man and
his pitiful struggling, but managed to Arlington. "I do not have time to harass the poor man, and get
your hopes up for nothing. Let's finish the job and go back to the lair." With the Arlington pressed
the gun nozzle at the rear side of the target head, and prepared her finger over the trigger. "Any last
words, Mr. Blake? And no more begging. Whatever you have to offer, we neither need nor want. This
small pause is for your benefit, not ours.'ll Give you two minutes. Use them wisely."
"Oh, David, are you still doing that?" A Marko laughed knowingly - a laugh that could be shared only
among close friends, cruel but kind at the same time. Then he relaxed his slim figure against a
target of downed vehicles so that the moonlight was caught in his beautiful eyes. "You're quite
sentimental bastard, are not you?" he continued. "If you're not a tease, then just shoot a man, and
let's be done with it. Entire" last words "routine is getting kind of old." Arlington opened his mouth
to protest then, but Marko dismissively waved at him. "And I do not want to hear that story about an
old man who has spent his last two minutes of the constellation points, or a rich woman who told you
about her wedding day. They are just exceptions that prove the rule. Rest of them waste time
begging.'s It is tedious and stupid. "
"What do you mean?" Asked Arlington, kicking the gun nozzle firmly into Mr. Blake's head. "Are you
going to waste your time that you give?"
"Please, sir," pleaded Mr. Blake, which proves point Marko is without a shadow of doubt. The target
voice was still blurred heinous sobs now, both wet and loud. "Please, please have mercy!, For the
love of God!" After Mr. Blake moved as if to go to Arlington and clutch at his riding cloak, that he
cursed bomber blow to the head and the target was silent.
"You see?" Marko admonished cheerfully, pointing towards the target with a grin. "You're just
torturing the poor guy, anyway. Lay him anymore. Besides, do you really think Greyson master
would approve of you getting all intimate with their goals?" The last issue contained a hint of threat
or possible warnings. Either way, it was more than a gentle tease.
"Are you going to gossip about me?" Arlington hissed. Frankly, he was not afraid to champion
Greyson anger, but Mark's taunt him, he was embarrassed. Sentimental style killing has not been
approved in the Crimson Dragons, and certainly will not be allowed Mater Greyson, one of the
Guild's most famous players. If Arlington "Two minutes," Spiel were ever revealed to his superiors
would lose credibility as a result.
"No, of course not!" Marko insisted, lifting both hands to gesture of goodwill. "We are brothers from
the shops, and I'm just looking for you, that's all. Upon my soul, and I hope you die." After further
emphasize their opinion and demonstrate their loyalty, Marko drew an imaginary "X" on the chest.
Meanwhile, Mr. Blake is still up and shouted to interview their bombers. "Please!" he cried, his face
a mess of mucus and salty tears. "Please let me go!'ll Do anything I swear!" Arlington looked at the
man, depressed, and then realized that Marko is right. By Mr. Blake live longer and longer, with a
gun pressed against his skull, he was just torturing the poor man. With a disgruntled sigh, Arlington
pulled the trigger of his gun and watched as the blood splattered up from the target skull. A quiet
now, Mr. Blake could only fall forward and on the ground, with a special charm just throw the dead.